Pirates of the Mausoleum
by Immortalica
Summary: Fish, Sauron, Cap'n Jack, Lecter, and Snape show the true meaning of the word INSANE!
1. Default Chapter

Pirates of the Mausoleum Disclaimer- I do not take credit for the invention of Captain Jack Sparrow, Snape, Lecter, Fish, or myself. Thank you to Disney, J.K. Rowling, Thomas Harris, Fish's parents, and my own mum and dad. Oh, and www.homestarrunner.com for their quotations and endless hilarity.  
  
Scene 1  
  
Trudge, trudge, trudge.how long she had been down here, her feet slip- sliding through the sludge, she could not tell. Looking at her watch, she made it about five minutes. Feeling slightly heartened, she called up the tunnel, "Fish? Fish! Are we nearly there yet?"  
  
"SShhh!" admonished the spiky haired madwoman, who was about 5 metres further on down the tunnel. "Sauron, you must learn to lower your voice!"  
  
"Why?" answered Sauron just as loudly, her voice disgruntled.  
  
"Because we're in the out of bounds sewers. This is a murder scene, REMEMBER? It's illegal for us to be here, and if anyone catches us, I think our investigations will come to a screeching halt."  
  
Sauron snorted in sarcastic laughter, her usual air of carefree madness vanishing. "Our investigations, indeed. You're the Lecter-murder-cannibal- thingy obsessed one, I only came 'cos you threatened to rip up my pictures of Captain Jack. It's your investigation, and I'm not gonna shut up so you can play the little detective."  
  
Fish turned around, her hands contracting as her breath hissed out. "Will you be quiet, you.you.you possum!"  
  
"POSSUUUUUUUUUUUM!" shouted Sauron in a deep, growly voice. "SYRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUP!"  
  
Fish joined in, laughing hysterically. "Thrills, chills, SYRUUUUUUUPPPPPP!!!!!!!!"  
  
"GNOME DANCE!" they both yelled, crouching slightly and waving their arms and torso from side to side, giggling inanely.  
  
* * *  
  
A small, wiry man in a long black overcoat stopped in the middle of the street, the rain beating on his head. He frowned. To his ears there came a sound like two female voices deep underground, shouting, "WHERE'S THE RUM GONE? HAHAHAHA! TROG DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOR!" He shook his head sadly. Maybe he had taken too many of those pills. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he hurried on.  
  
* * *  
  
Down in the sewers, the two friends had fallen quiet again, though they were now walking together with their arms about the other's shoulders, occasionally muttering "Ooooooo-kay.I mean sooooooo good!" to each other and sniggering. Suddenly, at the crossroads of another pipe, Sauron squealed.  
  
"Woah, dude! Look at my foot!"  
  
The aforementioned foot was half immersed in shining strands of gloopy floating blue goo. (Sorry, this is the closest description to it I could write.) While Fish stood transfixed, Sauron wriggled her foot around, making the light shimmer and engulf more of her shoe.  
  
"That's so cool!" breathed Fish, her eyes large as pancakes. (MMM, pancakes!)  
  
Sauron was more concerned with dancing. "Put your right leg in! Your right leg out! In out in out shake it all about!" As she 'shook it all about', however, there was a sudden squelch as the blue substance sucked her in. With a sudden cut off scream of "OHNODAMNITOHGODSHELPOHSHI--" she and the blue mass vanished.  
  
"Sauroooooooooon!" screamed Fish, sinking to her knees in the sludge. "Nooooooooooooooooo!"  
  
At least, this is what she would have done had she thought of it at the time. Instead she merely remarked, "Ooh! Gloopy!"  
  
But now a choice of paths lay before her. Straight ahead, down the dank tunnel, lay the murder scene and the case that intrigued her. A very Lecter- like murder, right here, one with an adventure she could be involved in, and possibly even meet the good Doctor himself! She looked sideways. A glimmer of daylight suggested that this may be the best possible route for starting the search for her kidnapped friend. Kidnapped? she wondered, her brain intervening. Is this the best word? Maybe 'gloopified' better fits the situation. Finally she settled on 'abducted friend'.  
  
Torn, Fish's head swivelled madly from side to side, trying to decide. Should she put her own lifelong fantasy aside to help her friend? Or should she hope that Sauron was strong enough to overcome what was on the other side?  
  
There could only be one outcome.  
  
She did a gnome dance.  
  
* * *  
  
"-it!" finished Sauron, falling over in the sand. Sand? Her eyes lifted, and she saw a long stretch of golden sand, with a sparkling azure ocean gently nuzzling the flawless beach. Suddenly, she heard a voice. A man's voice. A sultry, half-mocking man's voice, very close.  
  
"That's interesting. That's veeeeeery interesting," came the voice.  
  
Sauron's heart missed a beat. That sounded just like.no, no, she had been witness to a huge number of similar hallucinations, admittedly, not with the blue gloop and all, but that taunting voice.every time she had turned in her fantasies, and every time it had been some mirage or something.  
  
Keeping her back to the voice, Sauron called out "It's no use impersonating my favourite pirate, I know you're just a cactus or big sharp spiky talking porcupine trying to make me hug you and get all prickles in my skin."  
  
"What?"  
  
Sauron stuck her fingers in her ears. "I'm not listening! Lalalalala! Don't try and tempt me, I'm not listening to you!"  
  
A shadow fell over her. "What are you on about, love?"  
  
"I'm still not listening to you! Doo doo de-doo!"  
  
"That could start getting really annoying about five seconds ago, savvy?"  
  
Sauron was intensely aware of a presence at her side, and screwed up her eyes so as not to be disappointed again. "Go away! I want to enjoy this beautiful tropical paradise without prickles in me, you damn talking porcupine! Ow! Quit poking me!" It dawned on Sauron that one, porcupines do not have fingers with which to poke, and two, it's unlikely that a talking porcupine would have been let in to the cinema to see Pirates of the Caribbean, let alone be able to do a satisfactory impression. Unplugging her ears, she opened her eyes. And gasped.  
  
There, in front of her, his tanned, fine-boned, slightly amused face hovering inches from her own, was Captain Jack Sparrow of the Black Pearl. His eyes were huge, dark, and ringed in thick black kohl, and they stared into hers with a piercing gaze that raped the very depths of her soul. His mouth was firm, his red lips set in a quirky smile below his black moustache, and his dreadlocks hung around his face, making him a creature of light and shadow. His bare neck was the brown of freshly baked gingerbread, and Sauron found herself wondering whether his skin also tasted like it. She couldn't trust herself to speak. All her dreams of this moment involved her doing something quite fierce and risqué now.but there again, she wasn't in the habit of carrying a flexi-ruler and a pint of double cream around on the off-chance she'd meet a fictional movie character. But now he was actually here, she was entranced.  
  
* * *  
  
"I've made the right decision," Fish assured herself aloud. "I've done what only a real human being would do. It takes real depth of character to make the choice I have, it's my moral obligation to do so." It was a shame about Sauron really, but some things were more important than friendship. And meeting Hannibal Lecter was definitely one of those!  
  
She splashed along the tunnel, singing, "I am a mooooooooole, and I live in a hooooooole!" It had been one hour since Sauron had vanished, and the rancid tunnel seemed to stretch on forever. Suddenly her foot, dragging wearily along the floor, encountered a hard object. Fish looked down.  
  
"Woaergh!" she yelled, noticing a prone figure in the sludge. "I am so sorry! Did I hurt you? I trod on your hand! Oh, your poor hand! I really must apolo." She frowned, leaning closer. "Oh, you're dead. And I just wasted all that breath on you. Well at least I have breath to waste, HAHAHAHA!" She started jumping up and down on the dead man's chest, laughing maniacally. "HA HA you're not breathing and I am!" The corpse made unpleasant squishing noises under her feet, and she jumped off it. Turning her head, something caught her eye. She stared at the slimy brick wall. One brick seemed to be crying for attention and she leaned towards it, noticing the strange circle etched upon it. As her perspective changed she realised that it was in fact a big, red button. It could not have been more irresistible if it had the words 'DO NOT PUSH!' in large letters above it.  
  
She pushed it.  
  
Nothing seemed to happen.  
  
Staring at the immobile surface, Fish did not notice the wall behind her rotate outwards and a shadowy figure prepare to strike, knife in hand. Feeling slightly disappointed, she pushed the button again, and with a strangled cry the shadowy figure was caught off balance as the portal suddenly started to close again.  
  
Seeing nothing happen, Fish kept idly pushing the button while she mused, oblivious to the faint retching noises behind her and the grind of a mechanism constantly changing direction. Her thumb pushed the red surface again. Click, click, click, click, click in and out went the button, and Fish, understandably miffed at the lack of result, increased her prodding with renewed fervour.  
  
Behind her a shaky voice cried out, "Stop it! Stop it now! I can't take it any more! Please desist!"  
  
She turned around to see Hannibal Lecter tumble out of the secret portal on weak legs, his face green and his hands clasped to his heaving stomach. He fell to his knees and vomited on the floor. When he looked up a piece of paper was being held out, and a pen offered to his trembling hand.  
  
"Oh, WOW! Dr Lecter, can I please please please have your autograph? It's such an honour meeting you face to face!" He looked into the insanely grinning face framed by spiky hair.  
  
"I didn't know gnomes really existed," he remarked weakly, and passed out. 


	2. Chapter 2Hello Lecterand Hello JACK!

(Added Disclaimer- thank you to Monty Python for their creation- the Ministry of Silly Walks, and Disney again for their characters. Plus Trog Dor is from the Homestarruner.com website.)  
  
Scene 2-  
  
"My dear lord Trog Dor," whispered Sauron, her breathing heavy, "It's true!"  
  
"What's true, love?"  
  
Sauron squealed, clasping her hands to her chest. "You called me love! I mean...just the...oh my...woah DUDE!!!!!!!"  
  
Jack's eyebrows moved in a way very much like mating furry caterpillars. "O- kay...I think the sun is getting to ya a little bit." He drew slightly away as if to stand. "Can you walk to the shade?"  
  
Sauron's mind raced, then she stood up slowly. "I do feel a little bit faint..." she admitted, then collapsed in Jack's general direction.  
  
He caught her in his arms, and held her tightly.  
  
No, that's a lie made up by Sauron's 'What should have happened..." brain cells. In fact he was facing in the opposite direction, and didn't notice her fall heavily to the ground with a yelp of surprise.  
  
"OW! Mother of..." she hissed, landing on her already bruised hip.  
  
Jack immediately turned and knelt at her side. "Are you all right, love?" At Sauron's moan he slung one arm under her shoulders and the other under her thighs, and lifted her in his arms.  
  
He tottered along the sand about three steps before collapsing in a heap.  
  
"Is this my arm?" came Sauron's voice from somewhere amidst the tangle of limbs.  
  
"I think so," replied Jack, feeling cautiously around. "Is this my butt?"  
  
"Erm...no, that's mine," giggled Sauron, feeling his hand reaching gently around her posterior. The hand was quickly withdrawn, and Sauron thought, damn! Shoulda said it was his butt!  
  
"Sorry, very very sorry, DON'T SLAP ME!" he yelled, holding his hands up to protect his face.  
  
Sauron giggled again, and hated herself for it. "I wouldn't dream of it," she replied softly, staring intently at his face. "Now are we going into the shade, or what?"  
  
He shrugged. "I don't mind...hey! I know what this party's missing!" He grinned and gestured with his hands, waiting for her to finish the sentence.  
  
She didn't disappoint him. "RUM!"  
  
Quickly they stood up and dusted sand off themselves. "Follow me, savvy?" said the Captain, making exaggeratedly big steps away from a palm tree. Sauron watched him, the corners of her mouth trembling slightly. When he realised she wasn't following, Jack turned to look at her. "What?"  
  
Sauron bit her lip, making muffled sniggering noises. "Nothing...nothing...say, how long have you been in the Ministry of Silly Walks?" With that she started laughing uproariously, ignoring his bemused expression.  
  
"What?! What's a...min...is...ter...ry? You have soooo made up that word!" he complained, stamping his foot. He folded his arms, watching Sauron beat her fist on the floor and writhe in laughter. "Look, it's really not that funny, okay?" He leaned down to her, his dreadlocks swinging above her face. "Are you coming or do I have to carry you?"  
  
Sauron stopped laughing immediately. Did he even have to ask?!  
  
* * *  
  
Hannibal awoke to a terrible sound.  
  
"TROG DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOR! DUNNA NAH NAH NAH NAH NAH NAH TROG DOOOOOOOOOOOOOR!"  
  
Fish's face appeared over his, looking none the less gnomelike for being upside-down. "Ah, Dr Lecter, you're awake at last. Or can I call you Hannie- baby?"  
  
He screwed up his eyes in the hope that it would go away.  
  
"Aah, Hannie-baby, are you having a relapse? Maybe I should sing a bit more, calm your nerves. TRO-"  
  
Faster than Sauron's wit (even if I do say so myself- heh!) he sat up and clamped a hand over her mouth. "NO! I'm fine! Thank you very much!"  
  
There was silence for a second. They looked at each other, one with wary, dark maroon, sunken eyes, and the other with an impish gleam in hers. They both knew of Hannibal's terrible reputation for strength and violence (hah- who doesn't?), and knew that the next move would be the deciding one.  
  
Silence reigned. Each wondered who would be the first to break it.  
  
"Soooo...nice lair you got here, Hannie-baby," remarked Fish conversationally. "Grey dripping walls, hard metal furniture, ornaments that can be easily used to either club someone over the head or impale them...it's very...tasteful."  
  
She coughed.  
  
Suddenly, Lecter whipped out a knife and held it a foot away from Fish's chest. "Now the situation is mine to control, my prisoner. I have the scariest assortment of weapons concealed about my person, should you try to resist. Now slowly raise your hands and put them behind your head."  
  
He suddenly noticed the shine in Fish's eyes. To not be crying in fear at Hannibal the Cannibal pointing a murderous knife at her chest, the girl would either have to be not thinking, insane, or have a very cunning plan...or in Fish's case, all three.  
  
Fish snorted. "You call that little linoleum knife a scary weapon?" she scoffed, unafraid of its point aimed at her heart. "Now this is a scary weapon!" With a turn of speed that even made Lecter blink in surprise she whipped out a long, thin object.  
  
"AARGH!" Lecter screamed. Then he stopped. Looking more closely at the object thrust towards him, he frowned.  
  
"Erm...that's an umbrella."  
  
Fish's eyes narrowed. "What's your point?"  
  
"Nothing! Nothing at all! Except...I have a knife and you have an umbrella."  
  
"Which makes us even," replied Fish calmly. She watched Lecter's brow furrow, almost seeing the thought processes running through his head.  
  
He laid down his knife and smiled disarmingly. "Alright then, how about this. We have a contest...the winner takes the loser hostage." He watched Fish's face carefully.  
  
The umbrella made a pathetic thud as it hit the floor. "What type of contest?"  
  
* * *  
  
They had found the rum.  
  
Only one flagon stood empty so far, courtesy of the good Captain. He sat next to Sauron, their butts making little comfy grooves in the sand.  
  
"Come on!" Jack pleaded, looking at her beseechingly. "Just open your mouth and I'll put it in!"  
  
"But what if it tastes vile?" worried Sauron. She wanted more than ever to be in Captain Jack's good notes (I doubt he had any books) and get drunk with him, yet if she spat it all over the floor she might forever lose his affection.  
  
"Vile? It's rum! The drink of the Gods! Pleeeeeeeease?" he said, holding out the bottle to her.  
  
There was no way she could resist those eyes. Raising the neck of the bottle to her lips, she took a deep draught. Lowering the bottle, she wiped the back of her hand over her mouth.  
  
"WOW! I looooooove rum!" she squealed, hugging the bottle. She grinned at Jack, who grinned back, taking the bottle from her and having a swig. She immediately wrestled it back off him, and in trying to drink as much of it as she could before he stole it again, spilled most of it down her front.  
  
Jack laughed, his gruff pirate's voice becoming merrier as he became less sober. He grabbed the bottle back and did a passable impression of her throwing rum over everything.  
  
Sauron laughed, the rum having gone straight to her head. "Let's sing a song!"  
  
"What song?" queried Jack, still grinning and drowning in rum.  
  
"DUH!" giggled Sauron, trying to slap her forehead with her hand. She missed and the momentum of her arm threw her over backwards onto Jack. "The song!"  
  
"OH YES!" yelled Jack, giggling in a slightly more girly way than his companion. "Yo ho, yo ho a pirate's life for me!" he sang in a deep and out of key voice. "C'mon, join in!"  
  
"Duh da da da da da da da da da da, drink up me hearties yo ho!" they both shouted out, laughing every now and then. "Da da da da da da AND REALLY BAD EGGS!"  
  
Sauron stopped laughing abruptly. "Is it me, or do you only know three lines of this song? Yo ho a pirate's life for me, and really bad eggs, drink up me hearties yo ho?"  
  
Jack shrugged and looked hurt. "I know all the da da da da da bits as well," he protested. "It's not what a song is made up of, not like a tune, chorus, words, but what a song is. And this song..."  
  
Sauron's voice joined him. "-is FREEDOM!!!!!!!!!!" Then she stopped again. "You, know, I searched the internet to find those words, and the line is actually 'We're villains and black sheep, we're really bad eggs'. Not 'and really bad eggs'."  
  
"Erm, I think I would know! This song's been sung for generations! And what in the name of rum is the internet?"  
  
Sauron snorted. "It doesn't matter. But the words are from Disney, I think they know better than you!"  
  
Jack's face contorted. "Disney?"  
  
Sauron made an exasperated noise. "Yes! Makers of Pirates of the Caribbean? Think Mickey mouse? Goofy? Donald duck?"  
  
Captain Jack laughed again. "You lightweight! You can't even drink half a bottle of rum without hallucinating about a so-called 'Mickey mouse'. And you spilled most of it!"  
  
Sauron made a high pitched outraged noise and then giggled. "Erm, look at yourself!" she yelled, pointing at his rum-drenched clothing.  
  
Suddenly they stopped. Both pairs of eyes fixed on the rum that was equidistant to both of them. The wind blew, and a tumbleweed rolled past. From somewhere a western sound came.  
  
Wah-ooh-wah-ooh-waaaaah....wow wow wow.  
  
Jack's eyelid twitched.  
  
WAH-OOH-WAH-OOH-WAHHHHHHHHH!  
  
Sauron's fingers flexed.  
  
The tumbleweed rolled away.  
  
Suddenly they both lunged for the rum. Time moved sluggishly. Sauron's hands closed about the bottle and snatched it away a second before Jack's fingers reached the spot. Sauron pulled the rum in close to her chest and curled up in a ball.  
  
"That's not fair!" moaned the pirate, his face a picture of misery. Then he grinned slyly. Putting his hand on Sauron's hip, he tucked his fingertips under the hem of her top, feeling the soft skin beneath.  
  
Sauron flinched, but kept hold of the rum.  
  
Jack's fingers slid up her side, soft and caressing, marvelling at the texture.  
  
Sauron giggled.  
  
Quickly his arms slid under her and pulled her into a sitting position.  
  
"It's not going to work!" commented Sauron. It was all she could do to keep her voice calm, feeling the pressure of his body at her side. "The rum is MINE!" Then she felt the weight of his arm around her shoulders. Looking to the side, she watched his fingers close one-by-one over her shoulder, until only his thumb stood straight up in the air. She turned back to him.  
  
Jack looked at the girl sitting so close to him. Her dark hair, waist length and tinged faintly with a chestnut red, outlined her slim face and clung to her bare brown arms, which, he noticed, were almost as brown as his. Her face was also tanned, freckles softening the imperious line of her nose and proud red mouth. But her eyes...huge and dark, framed by immense lashes, they were every bit as striking as his own. They were deep pools of oblivion, so dark and mysterious he could just lose himself amongst the stars therein...  
  
"It's not the rum I want," he murmured softly. 


	3. Chapter 3 Grapes and morbidness!

(This is just to apologise for scene one...I only just noticed that the dot dot dots weren't actually visible, so apologies if you got a bit confused. And btw thank you so much Tourniquet4 for putting me on your favourites list! Makes me feel all fuzzy inside...)  
  
WARNING- Only read on if you are truly insane! And like grapes! Heh heh...  
  
Scene 3  
  
"So are we clear as to the rules of the contest?" checked Dr Hannibal Lecter, looking at Fish from the other side of the kitchen table.  
  
Fish nodded. "No hiding in pockets or swallowing..." she warned, aware that he might cheat to win.  
  
Lecter smiled. "Indeed. And remember, the one who fits the most grapes in their mouth at the same time gets to take the loser hostage. Ready?"  
  
Fish looked down at the bunch of grapes between her and Hannibal. She had green, he had an equal number of red. "On your marks..." she said... cracking her neck from side to side.  
  
"CRAM!" yelled Lecter. Both scooped up handfuls of grapes and shoved them into their mouths, their tongues pushing the fruit as far back as it would go before cramming even more in. Lecter's sharp teeth had pierced a grape; juice was dribbling down his chin. When they could hold no more they looked down at the tabletop. There were 7 grapes left in each pile, meaning they were in a tie.  
  
The contestants' eyes fixed on each other's bloated faces mistrustfully.  
  
With a quick gesture Lecter picked up two more red grapes and shoved one up each nostril.  
  
"Phraw! Fhwatfw tchrowtow!" mumbled Fish, then hurriedly chomped to clear her mouth. (By the way I can vouch for the accuracy of those sounds, I tried filling my mouth with grapes and those were the noises I made. Try it, it's fun!)  
  
"Hey! That's cheating!" she repeated, glaring at Hannibal.  
  
With much evidence of enjoyment, he snorted hard through his nose, sending the grapes flying across the room. "Actually, it's you who did not specify into which single orifice on your face you could insert the grapes. I win!"  
  
He approached Fish, who looked around wildly for her stalwart companion, the umbrella. It was too far away, so she artfully let her head drop and succumbed meekly as he tied her up.  
  
"How about a bit of role play?" Dr Lecter suggested, raising his eyebrows.  
  
Fish's head was up in an instant, an insane smile plastered on her face. "Really?! Okay Hannie-baby, I wanna be the pirate, you can be the wench!"  
  
"No! No, not like that!" panicked the doctor, looking scared. "I mean...well, this could be fun." He went over to a metal cabinet at the rear wall, opened it, and lifted out a familiar object.  
  
"Hey!" shouted Fish joyfully as she recognised it, "It's your hockey mask!"  
  
Dr Lecter slipped it over her head, tightening the straps. "Isn't that amusing?" he smiled. "Now you become me! Tied and masked, you are now Lecter, and I am Barney!"  
  
Fish looked quizzically at him. "As in the dinosaur?"  
  
Her captor rolled his maroon eyes. "You say you're a fan, and yet you presume that I would do something as out-of-character as putting on a large purple dinosaur suit?" He looked at her, horror and distaste evident in his gaze, and contempt in his voice. "What else, I wonder? Would you then require me, dressed in this...costume, to maybe sing a song? Do a little dance?"  
  
Fish grinned. "Yeah, make a little love, then get down tonight!"  
  
Dr Lecter grimaced and turned away in despair. "You know, I've seen many people in a similar situation to the one you are in now. Some have pleaded, some screamed, and others defecated with fear. But," he went on, his tone hardening, "this is the first time one has stood there and quoted words from Casey and the Sunshine Band!"  
  
"That's because you've never met anyone like me!" grinned Fish. "Apple?" (Sorry, that just seemed to fit so well.)  
  
"Well," muttered Lecter, turning away, "At least not while I was conscious."  
  
* * *  
  
The bottle of rum fell to the floor.  
  
It sounded like a line, the words, but his tone was too soft, too breathless, too truthful for her to believe her doubts. Her gaze searched his eyes; there was nothing but honest emotion there. Then she felt it. Felt it rising like it always did in her fantasies. (And no, that's NOT meant to be an innuendo!)  
  
It had always happened. Every time she felt strong emotion for a guy, another feeling would also emerge from her core. Violence. In Sauron's soul, passion and violence walked hand in hand. Visions of a flexi-ruler danced before her eyes. She needed to use her nails, her teeth, to draw blood, to make that voice gasp in pain. And seeing that hopeless passion in his face only fed the fire.  
  
(btw look away here if you're allergic to dot dot dots...)  
  
Though her mind screamed in agony, she drew away, hugging her knees. "I'm sorry, I...I always feel...and because it's you...oh, you wouldn't understand!" she said bitterly, hot tears leaking from her eyes. She tried not to notice his wounded expression.  
  
"I might...jus' tell me...I can't understand anythin' if you don't say it."  
  
Sauron turned to face him then, her face a mask of pain. To see him, the wily, double-dealing, self-confident, always jaunty Captain Jack Sparrow, pleading, weak and sensitive, was like claws tearing at her mind, like an insistent itching pain on her arm...oh, hang on, that was a mosquito. "You have always been...I mean, ever since I saw the fi...and then I have this...this darker side...and I just don't want you to be scared of me..." She saw his rum-slowed brain struggle to comprehend, and buried her face in her knees again.  
  
"Jus' tell me the whole fing...it's alright, love, I'm listening..." His voice, that rough voice more used to shouting orders above a screeching wind, seemed so awkward when used sensitively...yet it drained her like a small blood-sucking insect...irritably Sauron brushed away the damned mosquito that had returned.  
  
"It's no use," she said with a broken voice. "You wouldn't understand."  
  
"Aye?" replied the Captain of the Black Pearl, the rum inflaming his mind making him suddenly angry. "And why's that? D'ya think I'm too stupid to understand you, being only a pirate? I s'pose that's not good enough for your ladyship to talk to, is it?"  
  
Sauron's tear stained face raised sharply, a hiss sounding in her throat. "No! No, not at all! I just didn't want you to think I was..."  
  
"You know, I don't care!" yelled Jack, scrambling to his feet. "That's a more pirate view, ain't it? Not caring about anyone else? Well looks like you'd make a bloody good pirate as well!"  
  
Sauron was on her feet in an instant, swaying slightly because of the rum. "How dare you!" she spat, her eyes gleaming malevolently. "I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want to upset you! But looks like you're right, yeah." Suddenly another suspicion wormed its way into her mind. "Bet you've said that to a load of women, as well!" she hissed, moving closer. "Yeah, a woman at every port, you act all sympathetic just to get laid, then you're off with the morning tide! Well I'm not going to give you the satisfaction of getting out tomorrow. Get away from me now, you disgust me!"  
  
Jack jerked as if she had hit him. "You really...you really believe..." he muttered, his arms flailing in their usual way. Then he glared venomously. "Fine! I'll be off then! Dunno how you're gonna survive on this island without my help! But no, whatever you want, your ladyship! Can't possibly have a pirate caring about one, oh no!"  
  
And he disappeared into the darkening forest, leaving Sauron standing with a tear trailing silently down her cheek.  
  
(By the way...sorry for the amount of morbidness in that last bit...I'm trying to make up for what's about to happen with Fish, Lecter, and...DUH DUH DAAAAAAAAAH! You'll just have to read on...) 


	4. Sing, Fishy! And you can keep your hat o...

Disclaimer- The Black Adder theme tune is from Black Adder! (No, surely not!)  
  
(Heya! Thanks guys for your reviews...it's really gratifying to see my first ever fanfic so well reviewed! I love you people! Hope you enjoy this chapter, it's slightly more worryingly insane than the others! And I feel I must mention Fish for her first mention of the umbrella fight, asking about location of hot springs, and introducing me to Hannibal. And being insane of course. I luv ya, Fishy!)  
  
(Just thought I'd warn you- There may be some slightly slashy content in here...I don't know quite how far I'm gonna go yet.)  
  
Scene 4  
  
For once in his life, Dr Hannibal Lecter was truly infuriated. He was so accustomed to people being knock-kneed, tremble-jawed and weak-bladdered when they saw him, that having a different experience should really be novel. He was scary, he knew that. But what annoyed him about the spiky- haired girl tied up before him was not that she was simply unafraid.  
  
It was that she kept winking at him, grinning, and saying, "How about it, Hannie-baby?!"  
  
"God-on-earth!" he yelled, his fists clenched. "How many times do I have to tell you, I'm a terrifying murderous cannibal?! Not a hot movie-hunk, not some sort of brainless muscled poser, I kill people and eat their delicious body parts! I don't prance around in bloody green tights and a long blonde wig!"  
  
"A fact for which I am extremely grateful, oh terrifying cannibal," said Fish in a mock 'oh exalted-one' tone. "Forsooth, if all delightful men such as thyself were to 'prance around in bloody green tights and a long blonde wig', yea, verily, the earth should be smitten down with thunderbolts of incandescent wrath from the heavens!" (okay, so I would be more likely to say that, but I can't think of when I would use that in this fic so I'll let Fish have it...)  
  
Lecter stared. "M-" he started. "Wha-?"... "Bless you," he finally decided on, looking desperately around for a gag.  
  
Behind him Fish started to sing Sauron's new (and just put up on fanfiction.com!) song; 'Ode to Captain Jack Sparrow'. This should, however, be sung to the tune of the Black Adder theme tune, and not 'We three Kings of Orient Are', for the reason that is currently making Hannibal redouble his efforts in searching for a gag, his teeth gritted so hard together that he definitely would have lost the grape stuffing contest.  
  
"His loooooooooks no oooooooooothers caaaaaan surpass..." sang Fish in the background, doing an impressive job of trying to make the words fit.  
  
Hannibal looked blearily around. Anything, anything would do, be it scrap of cloth or watermelon, just anything to stop the...well, I suppose a very hard-of-hearing, tone-deaf person might call it singing, and to Hannibal's growing unhappiness he was neither.  
  
He winced, hearing the words, "He haaaaaaas a tiiiiiiight and looooooovely aaaaaaaaaaaaaarse!" squawked over his shoulder. Then his panicked gaze took in the nearest thing he could see that would fit in Fish's mouth. (And no, I know there was a sofa there, but even Fish's mouth has its limits! Actually, having said that...=D )  
  
The umbrella.  
  
* * *  
  
It was dark, and Sauron could no longer see the line where the sky met the sea. It had been three hours since the fight. Her brain was beginning to become unpleasantly achy and sober, losing the warm, comfortable lull of drunkenness. If only she hadn't got in such a temper, she thought despairingly, rubbing her eyes. If only she had stayed calm and explained to him...but that was the point, she remembered. She couldn't tell him how she always felt. Her violence was a part of her she did not want to acknowledge, (as well as her weird nose, unstoppable insulting mouth, and never-ending supply of blonde jokes), so telling it to Jack would mean that she had accepted it as part of her own character.  
  
And it's not me, she thought desperately. I just...I just lose control. And I didn't want him thinking I was always some sex-crazed maniac...well, the maniac bit's going to be hard to deny anyhow. I want him to know who I really am, and to treat any...occurrences of the violent type as one-off, chance happenings, not a central part of my real character. I didn't want to insult him. I didn't say that he was stupid, or that he just lied to get laid...actually I did say that, and that's probably true, after all, what do I expect, he is a pirate and more importantly a guy...but no, I was totally unfair. There again, he wasn't exactly Mr Friendly...well, except for earlier when his hand...OK! Stop with the thoughts!  
  
She had cried for some while, but now she felt dried out. She looked at her hands. They smelt of rum, and sand was ingrained under the fingernails. She gingerly patted her hair, and though it was less matted than she had expected, the sand and salt water had snarled amongst it. She felt filthy.  
  
Standing up, Sauron picked her way through the debris from earlier. She had to feel her way through the trees at first until her eyes became accustomed to the darkness. Then a slight glowing to the left led her toward it. Intrigued, she stumbled closer.  
  
The glade was lit by a ray of moonlight that shone through the thick canopy of trees, making it feel enclosed and warm. Looking up at the crescent moon, Sauron drew gradually further into the clearing and then stopped at a sensation under her feet.  
  
Or rather, a lack of sensation under her feet.  
  
"MEH!" she squealed as she plunged into the crystal clear pool that had lain innocently waiting in her path.  
  
About to storm out of the water, Sauron suddenly realised, hey, I'm soaked already, and I need a wash. So, removing her sodden jeans (harder than it sounds), and her black t-shirt, she cast them outside the pool and swam around in little circles for a while, marvelling at the beauty of the night. The pool was warm, and constantly being heated by natural hot springs. She dipped her head under the water and rubbed hard at it, coming up for air only when she was close to asphyxiation. Ducking under again, she vigorously rubbed her hair releasing a floating cloud of sand, and then broke surface once more, getting the shock of her life.  
  
Jack was standing on the bank, watching her intently.  
  
Sauron immediately sunk further down into the water, leaving only her eyes and nose above the surface like an alligator. "Pheh luff bloip fwoh ghol roah?" she asked, then rolled her eyes. Rising slightly so her mouth was in the air, she asked, "How long have you been here?" Embarassment and anger from the previous argument roiled in her like...two roiling things.  
  
"I've been watching you since you entered the clearing," he replied. She would never learn, he vowed, how he had watched her from the trees ever since the argument, longing to comfort her as she wept. She would never know how he walked beside her like a guardian angel in the dark, ready to stop her from coming to harm. She would also never known how hard it was to suppress a burst of laughter when she blundered into the pool.  
  
He watched in amusement as she tried to cover herself. "There's no need, as I say, I've been watching for a while!"  
  
"Too scared to get your feet wet, pirate possum?" Sauron taunted, embarrassment making her lash out as usual.  
  
"No," he replied, smiling brazenly in reply. With a shrug of his shoulders, the long maroon coat crumpled to the ground in a heap. He reached around his back and, after some fumbling, managed to untie his sash. Neglecting the fastenings, the pirate captain pulled his shirt off over his head carefully, managing to upset not a single braid. His boots were kicked off, and his hands reached for the buttons on his pantaloons. With one swift movement one leg was liberated; but the mood was rather spoiled by the whole mass getting stuck around the shin of the right leg. Sauron watched, grinning, as he hopped around in a circle, frantically kicking the foot out to the side with lump of trouser still attached. Sauron's laughter made him redouble his efforts. At last the offending article of clothing came free and sailed over to land- with pinpoint accuracy- on Sauron's pile of clothes.  
  
Sauron and Jack looked at each other. Sauron's gaze travelled down. Sauron's gaze travelled down some more. She whistled.  
  
"Are you pleased to see me or are you growing a fifth limb?!" she giggled.  
  
Jack's hands moved to his hat.  
  
"Oh no!" cried Sauron, then smiled tauntingly. "You can keep your hat on!"  
  
Jack's answer was to climb into the pool and wade towards her, stopping at arm's length. They stared at each other in the moonlight, the steaming water lapping around their waists. Sauron's skin was silver in the ethereal light, and her hair looked uncommonly like his when wet. But her eyes were huge, dark and soulful, and they stared at him with undisguised longing. Yet he knew there was one thing he had to ask her.  
  
"About earlier...we need to-"  
  
Sauron silenced him by putting a gentle finger at his lips. "Don't say anything," she warned, "and it might just be okay."  
  
His answer was to bite gently at her finger, and put his arms around her waist.  
  
She could not, would not reply.  
  
For their lips touched. 


	5. Enter the Rickman, & Hannibal's midlife ...

(Hey! Thanks for continuing reviews, will bear in mind that not everyone likes slush. Hope you're all okay with full on frontal nudity though...KIDDING! But I do warn you, later on in the fic will be a couple more references of an...how can I put it? Ah, of a sexual nature, though nothing too explicit. But there will be mild references. Just a warning. Thank you very much. Oh, and by the way, Fish is concerned that I tell you that Sauron is just a nickname...personally I think telling you the aforementioned fact is an insult to your intelligence. I mean, what kinda parents would call their little girl Sauron? Let's get smart, people! Anyways, hope you enjoy yet another insane chapter!)  
  
Scene 5  
  
The figure in the long black coat stood uncertainly in the dark tunnel, his eyes roving from side to side. He was certain this was where the noises were coming from. Suddenly he heard it again, a voice raised in song. That was one of the voices he had heard before! Looking wildly around, he decided that there were no circumstances on earth that could prevent him from reaching the owner of that voice.  
  
Then he saw the button. Built into the slimy brick, it was visible only close to, but he knew at once that it was the way forward.  
  
He pushed it.  
  
Nothing seemed to happen.  
  
Ooh, déjà vu!!!  
  
* * *  
  
Dr Lecter's shoulder's slumped dejectedly at the pleasant ringing noise that reverberated around the room, and the point of the umbrella which had been menacing Fish's nose dropped to the floor.  
  
"How tiresome," he sighed. "Right when I'm trying to do something important, someone comes to the door. It just won't do!"  
  
Fish nodded sympathetically behind the mask. "It's the way of the world, Hannie-baby. Yet it is most impolite." She shot a frosty glare at the door. "Whoever shalt come through that door, let them be struck down at once by bolts of incandescent lightening from the heavens!"  
  
Fortunately for her, as you will soon find out, Fish's curse had actually no effect. Or this would be a very short fic.  
  
Lecter stared at her distractedly for a second, then waved his arm limply. "Quite so, quite so. Now please excuse me, my dear, for I have to get the door. When I return, you will be joining me for dinner," he said courteously, though the tip of his tongue appeared for a moment, moistening his lips.  
  
Fish grinned happily. "Ooh, lovely, what are we having?"  
  
Lecter smacked his forehead with his palm. The action of total despair would have been quite effective if it were not for the fact that he was still holding the umbrella. While nursing his face, several mumbled words could be heard from behind his hands, such as, "Of all the people...she had to...pushed the damn button!" Then he turned to her with a look of indescribable loathing. "I'm going to put this umbrella so far up yo-"  
  
"Not so fast!" came a heroic voice from the doorway.  
  
Two heads, one masked and crowned with spikes, the other sleek and already starting to swell, turned to look at the newcomer.  
  
Someone squealed.  
  
Someone swore.  
  
"I hope you don't mind, but the door was open," apologised Alan Rickman, sidling around the doorframe.  
  
(See, if he had indeed been turned into a small smouldering pile of ash through her curse, then Fish would have been unable to live with herself for ever after. Either that, or she'd remark, "Ooh, gloopy!")  
  
* * *  
  
On a desert island, slumbering beneath the translucent moon, something was about to happen. The sky was dark with that special faded black velvet colour known to night-lovers as the period before the sun came up. Two figures slept on the still warm sands, arms clasped protectively around each other. The larger one had long, black hair that mingled with the dark tresses of the smaller figure, creating a soft blanket that flowed down over their close shoulders.  
  
But something was about to happen.  
  
A pair of eyes opened suddenly. Sauron's face took on a look of complete calm, before rolling away from Jack's embrace. She stared at his naked form for a moment, her face becoming closed and bitter, before standing abruptly. She looked at Jack once more.  
  
But what looked out from behind her eyes was not Sauron...  
  
* * *  
  
"OH MY GOD! IT'S ALAN RICKMAN!" yelled Fish, her voice going strangely high. "I LOVE YOU, SEVVIE-KINS! I LOVE YOUR FEET!" Then she stopped her squealing. "You're a bit shorter than I imagined..." she conceded, looking down at him.  
  
Alan blushed, but looked determinedly up at her. "So what?" he retorted. "Appearances can be deceiving!"  
  
"Erm," came Lecter's amused voice from behind the outraged actor, "Yours would have to be very well disguised..." Then he rolled his eyes. "Honestly, fate must be playing a damned joke on me. First someone interrupts me just when I'm about to permanently shut that incredibly aggravating mouth, and then they turn out to be so small they couldn't even serve as an amuse bouche!" He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "How uncouth."  
  
Fish was still staring. "Erm...you aren't exactly as I imagined..." she said with a slight eyebrow-wiggle.  
  
Alan Rickman drew himself up to his full height. All twelve inches of it. "What, pray, do you mean by that?"  
  
Fish tried to choose her words carefully, for possibly the first time in her life. She failed miserably. "Er...well, you're a little...little, really. You're...a gnome!"  
  
Alan glared furiously at her. "Okay, so they use lots of special effects to make me look taller in films, okay? Doesn't mean you can just go taking th- "  
  
Then his face took on the most pathetic expression Fish had ever seen. "That...that voice..." he whispered, "That's the voice I heard...but you're...you're not..." As he spoke, his lip started to quiver, and his eyes filled with tears.  
  
"Aww, Sevvie-kins, don't cry!" crooned Fish anxiously. "I'm sorry if I upset you! You're my favourite-est actor ever, you know! Even if you are a gnome! I even prefer you to Hannie-baby!"  
  
"Hey!" came an outraged voice. Fish's head turned to see Lecter looking suddenly very weary and downcast.  
  
"No, I do still like you, Hannie-baby, I mean, I liked you before I even heard about Alan..."  
  
"Hey!" came the somewhat squeaky voice from her right.  
  
"ONE MISERABLE IDOL AT A TIME, PLEASE!" yelled Fish, her temper dissipating.  
  
Lecter stepped forward, raising the point of his umbrella. "Well, lovely as this has been, I'm afraid this merry scene has to come to rather an abrupt ending."  
  
"Why?" asked Alan, tiny hands on tiny hips.  
  
"Because I'm hungry, that's why," replied the doctor, licking his lips.  
  
"Yes, and you never did tell me what you were having," scolded Fish, shaking her head belligerently. "You just hit yourself in the eye with your umbrella!"  
  
Lecter raised his arms exasperatedly. "Okay, we all make mistakes sometime, you know?" he shouted angrily. "Bet you never do, Miss I'm-not-scared-of- anything-especially-not-terrifying-cannibalistic-mass-murderers! Bet you're just perfect in every way, shape and form! Like YOU could ever make a mistake!" he growled, sarcasm oozing from every orifice. "Look, I'm a cannibal, okay? Means I eat human flesh! Got it?" He glared at them, seeing only polite blankness behind their frozen smiles.  
  
He looked down to a tug on his trouser leg.  
  
"Excuse me," asked Alan Rickman courteously, "but what are we having?"  
  
"ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!" yelled Lecter, gripping his sparse hair between white knuckles.  
  
The gnome Rickman turned to Fish. "Been having a stressful day, has he?" he whispered sympathetically, indicating the doctor who had thrown himself onto the sofa, covering his head with both hands.  
  
"Yes, I think he needs to take a break from his work," replied Fish above Lecter's somewhat muffled sobs. "Now, are you going to get me out of here or what?  
  
Anguished moans, punctuated with snivels, came from Hannibal's direction. "They can't...*snivel*...they're just too much for a *snivel* person...I've tried and tried and they just won't...*sniff sniff*...I can't cope with this at my time of life...*sobs*...I need a holiday...*snivel*...be good for my heart...how can they be so uncaring...*fresh burst of crying*...they don't care, just trying to do my job...*sniffs*...I can't take it any more!"  
  
He looked up from his little wet patch of sofa and discovered that he was alone. And that the door was open.  
  
"Bugger." 


End file.
